Morphine
by ApplesAndAliens
Summary: REUPLOADED FROM OLD ACCOUNT TO NEW ONE. Hawkeye gets hurt and Steve's playing nurse, what could go wrong? Sequel: Halloween.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Avengers.

* * *

The shot fired wide, I used the moment to rush forward and threw a punch to knock the criminal out. With a small smile, I quickly removed the man's weapons and used his belt to lash his hands together. I heard a groan and immediately looked over, to see Hawkeye laid on the ground. _Oh no._ I ran over and knelt at his side and checked him for wounds

"Hawkeye, can you hear me?" I asked, finding that the shot hadn't fired as wide as I hoped; it had caught him in the arm. I ripped his sleeve off and he winced.

"Yea, Cap. I can hear you." He mumbled.

"Good. This isn't a bad wound, you'll be fine, breathe. Relax, I've got you." I said and his eyes opened to glare at me.

"Of _course_ I'm breathing. And why wouldn't I relax, I just have a hole in my shoulder." He replied. I wrapped my hand around it and he hissed sharply.

"Relax, Hawkeye. It's ok. I need to keep pressure on the wound. SHIELD will be here in a few moments." I said soothingly and his eyes shut. "Hawkeye, you stay awake now, don't leave. Still hear me?"

"Yes, I'm just tired. And you know, in pain. Just. Keep talking." He said and I used my free hand to rub circles into his non-injured arm. His eyes opened briefly in surprise and looked at me questioningly for a moment before closing.

"Of course. You just keep with me, don't wander off. What shall I talk about?" I mused for a moment and he looked at me again.

"I don't care. Just speak." He muttered. "Cats, food, women, I don't care."

"I'm more of a dog person. Cats are kind of odd, they like you and then they don't and then they _looooove_ you and then they'll happily eat you. Dogs are more dependable." I said and Hawkeye snorted. "I've always wanted a dog, too. I couldn't have one in the 1940's, too busy fighting, but I've been thinking about it lately…"

"Should do it. Get it a cape, be Cap and Lassie, the crime-fighter and man's best friend and eat apple pie while watching baseball. So very American…" He replied and I frowned a bit.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, pausing in my rubbing. He winced and opened his eyes.

"Harsher than I meant. It's just so you-ish. Don't stop." I looked at him and pulled my hand away to move his hair out of his eye and wipe some of the sweat off his brow. I then resumed my… petting.

"Well, I think I will get one. Now, food. I rather enjoy food, cooking is quite enjoyable. I try to eat and cook healthily but hamburgers and fries will forever remain a favorite in my eyes." He opened his eyes just to roll them at me and I smiled. "As far as women go… I don't know what to say about them. BW is rather brilliant, guns and… what's that word, badass? one minute and joking meddler the next. She's the only one I spend much time with; the majority of my days are spent with the Avengers after all."

"You could always go off on a weekend, it's not like we'll all die in confusion."

"And do what? I like spending time at home." I said and he shook his head very slowly. Suddenly the air whipped and Hawkeye slowly opened his eyes. The aircraft landed and a team of agents ran out and collected the criminal. Two medics rolled out a gurney.

"Deep breath Hawkeye, I've got to lift you." I said and he nodded, shutting his eyes tight. I lifted him as gently as I could and placed him carefully on the gurney.

"Hey Cap, can you, can you stay with me?" He asked very quietly and I quickly agreed, simply looking at the medic who had started to say something.

"Of course, Hawkeye. I'm right with you."


	2. Chapter 2

Only thing I own are my shreds of dignity and the crack that I call plot.

* * *

"Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaappppppppp'n" came a sing-song voice and I jumped, startled out of a light doze. I blinked in surprise at Hawkeye, who was singing on his hospital bed. "Caaaaapp'n, wakey-wakey eggs and baaaaaaaakkky. What's a baky? Is it de_licio_us? Or gross? I think it means bacon. Bacon is good. Eggs are gross. I don't like them. Oh, you're awake! Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Cap'n!" He exclaimed and I just stared at him.

"Uh, hello Hawkeye. How are you feeling?" I asked and he grinned broadly at me.

"I feel _great_! The nurse lady brought me something funny and put it in my arm and now I'm all floaty!" He said brightly and I inwardly groaned. _Must've been a painkiller, probably morphine. I should have warned them that he's oddly sensitive._

"Cap'n? Why are you all fwowny-face?" He asked with an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not… frowny-face, I'm fine." I replied and he looked at me, still looking quite sad.

"Noooo you're _allllwwwayyys_ all sad-sad-super-serious-thou-shalt-not-smile. Even when you smile." He said, frowning at me some more.

"No, I'm not." I replied and he glared.

"YES YOU ARRRREE! You always look like your puppy got hit by a car. It makes me saaad. I waaannna see you smile." He said and I raised my eyebrows.

"You have, Hawkeye. I smile at you all the time." He shook his head quickly.

"No, smile like you're reeeeeealllllyyyy happy, like how you smile at someone you reeeeeallly like and they do something likeable." He said and I shook my head.

"Hawkeye, I have no idea what you mean. Why don't you rest your head?" I asked, standing up from my chair and walking towards him. I leaned forward to adjust his pillow and try to, gently, push him down onto it. He allowed it after resisting a moment.

"You'd make a good boyfriend. You care a lot." He mumbled, closing his eyes in a huge yawn. I stared in surprise and he snuggled into the pillow. I watched him for a few moments and he stayed very still, as though asleep. I shook my head, wondering at what just happened, and I went back to my chair.


	3. Chapter 3

Don't own the Avengers.

* * *

A few hours later, the nurse woke me.

"Hello, sir. Hawkeye needs one more dose of morphine and antibiotics and then he can go home. Will you be taking him?" I nodded and then warned.

"Ah, he seems to react oddly to painkillers, can you change the dose at all?" She shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry. The dose is determined by the doctor and we aren't allowed to change it unless there's a medical reason, like heart palpitations or something similar. I sighed and she smiled apologetically. "Well, come on. I need you to sign the release forms. He should sleep for another hour or two."

Almost exactly three hours later, Hawkeye lay in my bed, again, and I was sitting in my chair. I alternated between reading a book and checking on his breathing. Once again, I was alone with him in the tower; Stark was with Pepper, BW was off doing whatever she did off-duty, Bruce was being a scientist in some lab, and Thor was in Asgard. Out of nowhere, he sat straight up in bed, stared at me, and shouted.

"AHHHHH WHERE AM I? Oh, hi Cap. I'm in your bed again, weird." He said, lying back down and hugging a pillow to his chest. "Snuggly."

"Yes, you're in my bed again… and yes, pillows are… snuggly." I replied looking at him.

"I like it. It smells nice." He nuzzled his face into it. Pulling back a bit, his eyes crinkled as though smiling, he just buried his nose into it and left his eyes uncovered. "I see you."

"I see you too." I replied, deciding to play along and opening my eyes comically wide. His eyes popped and he ducked into the pillow. Looking at his slightly exposed neck, I saw, with surprise, he was tinged a bit pink.

"Noph ou domnt." He replied through the pillow.

"Hawkeye, I can't understand you with the pillow in front of your face." I said, setting down my book on the floor. He lowered it a bit but still clutched it to his chest. He actually was blushing a touch as I watched bemusedly.

"You smiled!" he said excitedly and, reflexively, I smiled a bit bigger. "You did it again! But it's not right yet…" He frowned and I copied him. "Heyyyyyy…" he pouted and so did I. Hawkeye raised one eyebrow, and I still followed him. Suddenly he made puckered his lips and made kissing noises. I blinked. "Hah! I win." He said smiling broadly. I rolled my eyes and he stuck his tongue out at me. "I still wiiiiinnnn, don't be a sore looooooooser."

"You still feeling alright, Hawkeye?" I asked and he nodded seriously.

"Yup! Still floaty but my arm is kinda heavy. See?" He replied; lifting his bandaged arm and letting it dangle. I stood up and walked over, taking his arm gently to check the bandages. I pushed his sleeve up and with my other hand I ran fingers carefully around to make sure it wasn't too tight and he wasn't bruising and that bleeding had stopped. He watched my hand, intrigued, and blew on my fingers.

"Your fingers are fast… Like little bees… but they stay." He said reaching out his hand to touch my index finger. I let him, wondering why he was so susceptible to drugs. He tugged my finger off his arm, I allowed him to have my hand as I used my other to support his arm, lowering it onto the bed slowly. I kneeled on the floor so Hawkeye could play with my hand as I watched. He stared at the whorls of my finger prints and used his index finger to draw a circle in the sensitive area of my palm. Hawkeye traced out the lines on my hand and then finally held it to his chest in a hug.

"Mine now." He said, hugging my arm tightly. I tugged slightly on my arm and he glared. "No, mine. Miiiiine." He said stubbornly.

"Hawkeye, I need my ar-" I tried to reason and he picked up my hand, licked it, and then went back to holding it hostage. I stared in shock.

"See? Now it's mine. You don't want something with my spit on it. _Mine._" I just blinked for a few minutes, trying to process what just happened.

"Hawkeye, did you just _lick_ me?" I asked, somewhat dumbfounded. He nodded.

"My hand now." He answered and I nodded, defeated.

"Alright, Hawkeye. You may keep my hand. Just one thing, kneeling here is very uncomfortable. May I have my hand back, just for five minutes, so I can move the chair over here?" He considered it for a minute, stroking my arm as though it were a cat.

"No." He decided, holding my arm tighter and looking at me stubbornly. "If I let go, you'll leave. You stay." I looked up at the ceiling for a moment and then looked back at him.

"What if I promise not to leave?" I bargained and he shook his head decisively.

"No. You'll be too far away for me to do anything. You can stay there or get on the bed. I'm not letting go of MY hand." He replied, squeezing tighter. I bit back a sigh and considered my options. Hawkeye glared at me.

"Hawkeye, why do you want my hand so badly?" I asked and he frowned.

"It's _mine_ now. And because… because. Mine." He said, still stubborn and I shook my head.

"Fine, move over. I'm getting in the bed. Oh, and you're not allowed to be upset about this tomorrow morning." He smiled brilliantly and, in a fit of surprisingly coordinated wiggling, he moved over far enough for me to slide on the bed one-handed. Because apparently my hand was his now. _At least he took my left hand instead of my right…_ Hawkeye rolled over so that we were facing each other and he stared at me, still petting my arm.

"Why would I be mad? I get to have an arm. It's snuggly. Like the pillow. And it smells good too. I like you." He nuzzled my hand and I gulped, slightly uncomfortable with this but keeping my hand limp, still allowing it.

"Uh, ok…" I said, watching him stare at my hand. Suddenly, I wiggled my fingers and his head jerked back in surprise.

"It moves!" He exclaimed, watching my hand fascinated. "Watch!" Obediently I watched my hand do nothing. He frowned, went to poke it and then snapped my hand shut, like a Venus Fly Trap, holding his finger. "It got me! Oh noes!" Hawkeye looked frantically at me, then my hand, then me, then my hand. "Let go!" He said and then pouted at it. "My finger… My hand…" I released his hand and he grinned again. Pulling my hand up, he kissed it and rubbed his face on it again. "Good hand."

I rolled my eyes and watched him affectionately. _Woah, hold there. How am I looking at him? I am his commanding officer and friend. Nothing more. _I coughed a bit guiltily and tried to reclaim my hand again, to return to my chair.

"Come on, Hawkeye. You need some rest; I'll go and get you some hot chocolate." I offered and he glared at me again.

"No. You stay. Or I'll scream." He replied and I tugged again. He opened his mouth threateningly and I raised my eyebrows. Hawkeye appeared to rethink his strategy and then smiled evilly. "If you leave, I'll _cry_." He said and I just stared at him.

"You'll… what?" I asked and his eyes welled up with tears.

"I'll cry." He answered voice wobbly and eyes glistening. I swallowed, feeling the tug on my heartstrings. His lower lip wobbled and I saw that he was quite serious… and dangerous. I lasted, resolute, until I saw one tear break through, rolling down his cheek.

"Shush, hush Hawkeye. It's ok, I'll stay, don't cry." I immediately soothed, reaching out my other hand to wipe away that surprisingly painful-to-see tear. He smiled broadly and squeezed my hand, tears vanishing instantly.

"Yay!" He said and closed his eyes, holding my hand to his chest and snuggling in. "Good Cap." He scooted slightly closer and I bit my lip, resisting every urge; the one to run screaming, the one to pretend this wasn't happening, and most importantly the traitorous one to pull him closer and be properly 'snuggly'. _Commanding officer and friend, providing comfort to an ill soldier/friend/teammate. Nothing. Else. _

Suddenly Hawkeye sat up. "Oh no!" he shouted. "What day is it? What time?!"

I glanced at the clock. "It's Tuesday… and 4pm." I replied. "Why?" He relaxed and settled against the pillow again, stroking my arm.

"Oh, nothing. I still have time, I'm not late yet." He smiled at me drowsily.

"Late for what?" I asked, wondering if this has anything to do with the mysterious 'work', that I still hadn't figured out what was. He yawned and shook his head.

"I have some stuffs coming in the mail that I need to pick up." Hawkeye answered closing his eyes.

"What kind of stuff; would you like me to get it for you?" I offered and his eyes opened quickly.

"Noooooo! It's a secret, don't tell Cap! He can't know." He whispered. "I'm not late yet." I raised my eyebrows. _How can I not tell myself?_ _And what doesn't he want me to know?_ Hawkeye smiled at me and rubbed his face on my hand.

"I'm sleepy." He said, before darting forward and kissing my cheek. "Nighty night!" he said brightly. "Night-night hand" he said, kissing my palm, and laying his head down. Hawkeye fell asleep almost instantly and I just sighed, staring up at the ceiling. _He was so awkward last month about the trashcan and caffeine high thing… Why am I so ok with him kissing me? And why does he keep doing it? What is this 'work' and what is he picking up? Why is it such a secret?_


	4. Chapter 4

I own bad jokes, Marvel owns the characters.

* * *

I woke up to a sudden blast of cold and lack of weight. Opening my eyes, I saw Hawkeye jump out of bed and attempt to flee the room, but in the dark he clearly didn't see that the door was shut, and he ran headfirst into it. I quickly got out of the bed and ran to his side.

"Hawkeye, are you alright? What's got you so freaked out? Breathe, man." I said, glancing over him, finally taking his arm. I lifted it and checked the bandage to see that he ripped some of the stitches and it was bleeding. "You've opened your wound again, come on I need to redress it." His eyes were frantic and he shook his head.

"No, I'm fine Captain, I'll take care of it myself, I'm so sorry for being a bother, I'll just be going to my room, I'm fine. Let me go, I'm fine." He said quickly and I raised an eyebrow as I lifted him, unwillingly, and half-carried-half-dragged him back to the bed.

"The more you say you're fine, the less I believe you. Relax, I don't get why you're so… alarmed. What's wrong?" I asked, placing him on the bed and grabbing the medical kit from on top of the nightstand. Hawkeye sat, perched on the edge of my bed, tenser than a coiled spring and looking like he was ready to burst. He laughed harshly.

"Why wouldn't I be freaked out? This is the second time I've woken in your bed in as many months after being drugged and acting highly… inappropriate. Why are _you_ so calm?!" He said, refusing to look at me. I snapped my fingers and he glanced immediately to me, blushing. I met his gaze and raised my eyebrows.

"You. Were. drugged. The first time, a caffeine high. This time, morphine. Relax. I don't and wouldn't judge you on your drug tolerance, oddly non-existent though it may be, you can't be held accountable for your actions. So take a deep breath and let me take care of you." I said simply and he looked away, jaw clicking shut. I went back to his arm and slowly unwrapped the gauze. I reached over and grabbed a new roll of clean gauze, bagged up the used one, and handed Hawkeye the new one. "Hold this, and take a deep breath, this will most likely hurt." He looked at me questioningly and I wiped the cut with the cleanser that the nurse had packed. His eyes popped open and he bit his tongue, mumbling curses under his breath. After a few seconds, I wiped off the liquid and dabbed on some antibiotic ointment. Hawkeye handed me the gauze and I rewrapped his arm while he watched me, something unreadable in his eyes.

"Thanks." He said when I finished, I nodded. He stood up and started to leave.

"Hawkeye, wait." He looked back at me and I shut the case, hesitating. "Look, I don't know _why_ you do the things you do when you're… incapacitated, but it's fine. I still think of you as a friend and it will take a lot more than some spit to change that." I said and he smiled a very small and quick, but grateful, smile. Hawkeye nodded and turned to leave again. "I'll need to redress that tomorrow at the latest, so no hiding in your room for a week again." He flushed, nodded, and quietly shut the door. I sat back down and rubbed my forehead.


End file.
